What Is Worse Then A Dragon
by Bekah26
Summary: To Ori, men were worse then dragons. Dragons could only kill you. Men…men could hurt you.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, this is the first story I've written in a very long time so the flow may be rough. But there are just some characters that you really want to read about and I haven't seen a great deal of stories dealing with this one. Which is silly because he is adorable._

_Disclaimer of not owning any of the characters or settings below, nor having any claim to The Hobbit at all. I am just borrowing with intention to return...eventually._

* * *

Ori shivered in the dark, his bare skin too susceptible to the cool of the night, his small form too used to the furnace heats of dwarven forges and even warmer dwarven bodies. The remains of his outer garments strewn around the room from where it had been thrown by the men, bruises marking the length of his arms and chest from where they had grabbed him, held him down, and then –

It was his own fault that he had wandered away from the inn where their small group had planned to gather. But Dori and Nori had been busy and he had so wanted to see the markets of the town. Usually he would wait for one of their company to join him (Kili and Fili were willing anytime and Bombur always needed new provisions) but this time the three brothers had arrived first and alone.

Ori had hesitated a bit between sneaking out and waiting, but he was a grown dwarf with a beard of his own (nearly) and could take care of himself.

Except not.

_He hadn't expected it. While looking at one stall full of beautiful quills and inks, bound books in elegant scripts, and delicately embossed paper, he had felt a large shape approach from behind. The man was huge and reminded him of Dwalin, but only in shape. There was coldness in the man's smile when he greeted the small dwarf that made Ori wary and, with a nervous smile of farewell to the stall owner (who had looked worried herself), he clutched his purchases to his chest and started to return to the inn. _

_The man's friends had been waiting for him, grabbing from the shadows of a nearby building and pulling him away from the street, his items falling to the street. Hands over his arms, his legs, his mouth, and Ori could not catch his breath to utter a single cry._

Trying to hold back the whimpers, trying not to wake the men, Ori longed for his kin. To be held in Dori's wide embrace, gently shook as he made another misstep or mistook, and to have Nori's loud jovial voice warm and welcome him again.

The men's jeers echoed long in his head even after they themselves had fallen silent.

_They had carried him like a sack to a room, throwing him down on a bed, and then stood over him leering. And like the child he was oft treated as, all Ori could do was lie there and tremble._

"_Pretty one, ain't you? I've heard that female dwarves have beards as well as the men, so are you a lass or a lad?" _

"_Sstop! Let me go!"_

"_Must be a lass, too pretty to be otherwise. Look at it, hardly a beard at all."_

_Futility pushing at the forms around him as they lowered themselves, coming closer and closer, like darkness falling down on him._

"_Instead of guessing, me lads, let's just see for ourselves."_

_Then they stripped him, bared him and found him male, their laughter had doubled and so had the insults. And the touches._

Ori knelt up as much as he could, small hands tugging at the thick ropes that bound his wrists together. At each movement in the dark he stopped and waited until it passed, and then carried on with the slow unwind. He didn't know what they intended for him, but he was not a youngling that would sit and wait for rescue. He had shamed his family enough; he would do so no longer. He pushed away his fears and the darker thoughts, focusing on what he must do,

Hours must have passed, it certainly felt so to him, but he finally felt the knot unravel enough and he was able to slip his hands free. Even in the dim light from the window the marks left behind were dark and bloody.

Gently, gently he slipped from the bed and to the ground. He crept along, the door an impossible length away, for each movement made the hurts worse.

He finally reached it and, filled with the hope of escape, became careless. He stood and reached up, the handle moved, the door creaked open.

"And where are you going, little mouse?"

Again he was grabbed from behind, this time letting out a mighty cry of fear and despair. _No_, Ori cried, _no no no! _Even as he was pulled back into the depths of the room his fingers strained and reached for the opened door. _Dori, Nori, please!_

Enough. Ori twisted, he fought, he was a dwarf! Granted it was nothing more then scratches and biting, but it was enough. The man cursed, dropping the dwarf and grabbing his now bleeding arm, his companions waking as one large booted foot swung out the strike Ori in the chest, the force sending him across the floor where he lay, gasping and shaking.

"So the little rodent has teeth, yeah? But not for long. When I'm finished little mouse won't even be able to squeak."

"Oh you think so, do you?"

The door flew open wide and there stood a tall figure, taller then the men and full of light. Ori relaxed, fear fleeing at the sight, and his vision dimmed and so missed what happened next. But that was all right, he was safe.

He was found.

* * *

_REPOST: usually I don't do this but my first reviewer made me rethink not giving a warning. THIS IS NOT A RAPE STORY. Look at the rating. And I honestly don't feel comfy going so far. YES, there are allusions to abuse, but it does not go as far as rape. The men don't get that far, though they do strip him and hold him down. As Ori is so innocent, and used to Dwarf communities or being in his brother's protection, this event terrifies him and this chapter is written from his point of view._

_I apologize to anyone I may have shocked, next time I will give proper warnings. _


	2. Chapter 2

_Here is the second chapter! I may just be getting back into this writing thing yet...but no promises ;)_

_And although writing Ori is awesome I would love to read about Ori too (hint hint)_

_Disclaimers are the same, I have nothing save the ideas in my head, all dwarves and wizard belong to the people who own them._

* * *

The room was quiet, five dwarves waiting in a tense silence occasionally broken by the creaking of boots on the floor, feet shifting towards the door.

Dori sat hunched on room's small bed, a half opened pack next to him. He lifted his gaze to his younger brother Nori who, earlier, had tossed the pack onto the bed in a fit of anger over the owners, absence, spilling the contents. Now he too sat, hands cradling the knitted gloves that the youngest usually wore. Balin sat in the chair closest to the fire, smoking his pipe with a grim look on his face. Leaning against the wall nearby, whittling away at a slender piece of wood, was Bofur, brow furrowed beneath his heavy hat. Oin, the eldest there, sat in the other chair, watching the fire.

"We should be out looking as well," Nori grumbled, though with less heat then he had argued with Gandalf earlier. "A wizard he may be, but we can cover more ground."

Balin sighed, the words oft repeated in the time since the rest of their company had arrived and young Ori had been found to be missing. "Gandalf told us to stay just in case the young one returns. He has taken the others because they have experience with tracking. He knows what he's doing, lad. He'll find Ori, no worry." And if he has merely drifted to sleep somewhere and forgotten the time then I wouldn't want to be Ori for all the gold in Erebor when they do, Balin finished silently.

Bofur cast a quick glance his way, grimace on his face showing that he too echoed that thought.

"I don't worry about that." Nori grunted, drawing them back to the conversation. "I worry about what fool trouble the lad has fallen into. He should'a known better then to wander."

"Probably just wanted to get in some sketched before nightfall." Bofur tried a smile. "Some fancy tree or bush that caught his attention."

But they all knew that this wasn't so.

_Dori had returned from stabling the ponies to find the rented rooms empty, both brothers vanished. Over the course of the afternoon, as more and more of their company arrived, Nori had returned (smelling of smoke and ale) but their youngest was nowhere to be found. Not even for supper, the likes of which should have brought any dwarf running. It was the first time they had all been together since originally setting out from the Blue Mountains and would most likely be one of the last times they would all gather before truly beginning the quest (with the addition of a burglar). _

_Good food, good drink, and good company._

_And yet Ori had never come._

_With Nori's silent urging, and his own misgivings growing, Dori had approached Thorin and Gandalf with his concerns. _

"_Ori may be flighty at times, and easily distracted, but he is always respectful. He would be here to greet you if he was able. I fear that something has happened."_

_Gandalf puffed at his pipe, grey eyes looking inwards. "You feel that something ill has befallen him, do you Dori?"_

"_He is my brother. I would not speak of danger so easily unless I was certain." _

_Thorin studied him for a long moment and then nodded, face set into grim lines. He was aware that Ori was young, most likely thought that he was too young and certainly not as experienced as his own nephews, and unused to the dangers of the road. He looked to Gandalf who had also risen from his seat, countenance also showing resolve._

"_Then search we shall."_

Time passed.

Worry grew, as did Nori's muttered threats and Dori's pale complexion, until the younger brother pushed himself from the bed with a not so quiet curse, causing the others to jump at the unexpected sound.

"Damn the wizard, I cannot just sit here!"

"Nori, wait-"

Bofur tried to reach him before his left the room, or at least offer to go with him, when there came a shout from below. The room's occupants froze, Nori with his hand still reaching to open the door. Noises came from the stairs, someone coming up them swiftly, bellowing instructions, or admonishments, to the people below.

"Gandalf," Balin stood so quickly the chair was knocked over, pipe dropping to the floor. "That's Gandalf. Open the door, you nits!"

But it was too late for the door was open and the wizard was there.

Bofur would later recount how Dori had merely trembled (and how he had never denied it later), unable to stand to come to the wizard and the form that lay so still in those mighty arms. And so the wizard came to him, moving past a frozen Nori whose eyes stared without sight, the mere glimpse he had of his younger brother enough to force the air from his chest. Balin had come to stand beside them, one hand gripping Nori's shoulder and the other on Bofur's, face drawn tight and troubled. Oin had sprung forwards at Gandalf's urging to tend to the wounded youngling, approaching the bed warily as the wizard's bundle was gently placed in the arms of his brother, who pulled his close as if to hide him from view.

When Bofur realized that Ori was unclothed he felt grief enter his heart. When he saw how pale and still the small form was he felt it break.


End file.
